


Little Perfect Something

by runs_in_the_family



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Billy is an Unhinged Young Man but He Means No Harm, Bottom Steve Harrington, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Not tonight anyway, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Praise Kink, Rimming, Top Billy Hargrove, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runs_in_the_family/pseuds/runs_in_the_family
Summary: Billy can't quite remember what it felt like to ruin Steve Harrington's face. He remembers wanting so badly to break it. And what it felt like for Steve to lay there and let him.When he finds Steve passed out at a party, Billy doesn't want to hurt him. He just wants to see what he can do to him. What Steve will let him do to him.





	Little Perfect Something

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr for the prompt "...what if they were at a party, Steve is really under the influence, so Billy takes him home. He’s all pliant and soft (and obedient, if you like) and Billy loves it. Bottom Steve preferred."

     There was a light switch to his left, placed in plain sight for anyone entering the basement, but he chose not to flip it. He didn’t want to advertise his presence. Even shutting the door behind him, blocking out the party’s rowdy buzz, was done with delicacy so that the latch’s “click” wouldn’t draw attention.

     Rather than relying on the single, bare light bulb, he let the street lights guide his descent. Their glow broke into the basement through half a dozen high-angled windows and it was more than enough to show him the way. He had the street lights to aid his journey, and he had the low breathing to pinpoint his destination.

     At the bottom of the stairs, Billy tipped his head around a support beam and looked into the far corner, to the outskirts of the light’s reach. There was a raggedy couch and there was a body. Even in the half-light, he could just make out the twisted position, face down, right hand dangling over a toppled beer can. The legs were angled into the air by the armrest, as if this somebody had tripped over it, landed on the cushions, and passed out right as they were. Without the sound of strained, heavy breaths programming it to rise and fall, Billy could’ve pegged it for a corpse.

     He moved towards the couch and propped himself against a stack of boxes marked “Christmas”. For a while, he just nursed his beer and watched. Though mostly smothered against polyester seat cushions, half the face was turned out towards the open. He took a sip from his can and focused in on the mouth. An almost inordinate amount of alcohol had passed those lips since nine p.m. Billy had seen them at work all night, opening up for shots and kegs stands and any bottle that had been placed in front of them. Not ten minutes earlier, he’d seen them wrapped around the mouth of a whiskey bottle, sucking down far more than he’d expected of them.

     He liked those lips. There was something biteable about them. And lickable. And punchable.

     Ruining that face had been beyond gratifying. He didn’t remember all of it, whatever Max had stuck him with had robbed him of that pleasure, but he remembered enough. A few fragmented images to make him smile when he needed it. Mostly he remembered how it had felt. Being in control. Having this perfect something spread out in front of him and being able to use it how he wanted. That night at Byers’, he’d wanted to ruin it. So he had. He’d broken it, tore it, spoiled it.

     And Steve had laid there and let him.

     Seeing the aftermath show up to school each day had given him a hint of that same satisfaction. He would watch the colours worsen and the swelling grow and feel beautiful little aftershocks surging through his body knowing that _he did that_. But, over time, he’d started to worry. The longer it’d taken for his handiwork to heal, the more he’d wondered if maybe he wouldn’t get to see that perfection again. That maybe Steve wouldn’t heal quite right.

     Billy dropped his empty into the boxed tinsel and stepped nearer the couch, hovering for a second before slowly dropping to a squat. As he pulled out his cigarettes, his eyes were drawn to a inch of bare skin at the base of Steve’s spine, just visible below a twisted sweater hem. He didn’t often get the chance to be this close. When he did, touching was always out of the question. After a moment’s consideration, he reached down and glided his fingers over the soft hair and pale skin. There was a shudder under the touch that reverberated through his arm.

     He wondered how much Steve could feel when he was laid up like this. What reactions he could trigger without him even knowing.

     He raised his hand and brushed a finger across Steve’s bottom lip, blood warming when the pressure edged his mouth open a little wider. Billy smiled for half a second before slowly dipping down and skating the tip of his tongue along the same soft patch of pink. He pulled back and watched Steve unconsciously suck his lip into his mouth for a moment. Billy could’ve sworn that the next exhale was closer to a moan.

     In the end, Steve had healed just fine. It had taken a while but, eventually, there wasn’t a trace of Billy’s destruction left on him. It had been a relief when he’d realised that there’d be no lasting damage. That the little perfect something was back as it was supposed to be. It meant that when he wanted to ruin it again, it’d be just as satisfying as before.

     Billy lit his cigarette and sighed a cloud of smoke.

     He didn’t want to ruin this, though. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with this. But there it was, perfection, patiently waiting for him to make up his mind. Waiting to let him do whatever he wanted with it.

     “Harrington?” He whispered.

     The call set a twitch in Steve’s brow but did little more to rouse him.

     Billy leaned a little closer and slowly let out a breath of smoke on Steve’s next inhale. He watched it disappear past his lips and smiled when he heard a choke. Heavy lids cracked open, exposing bloodshot confusion to the dim light.

     “Morning, sunshine.” He kept his voice low. “You feeling okay?”

     Steve’s eyes fell shut again. His face twisted into a scowl.

     “Wh…where’re you doing here?”

     Billy chewed on his grin.

     “ _What_ am I doing here?” He corrected.

     “What’re you…my room…”

     Billy shook his head and took another drag.

     “Not your bedroom, sunshine.” He smiled, gently stroking Steve’s cheek.

     The frown softened against his touch.

     “Like that?” Billy asked, delighted with himself.

     The only answer he got was a sigh, barely audible, but it was enough to sate him. He retracted his hand and relished the look of disappointment that crept onto Steve’s face.

     “Alright, let’s check the vital signs. You know who you are?”

     Steve’s eyes blinked open for a second before clamping shut again. With a pained moan, he rolled onto his back and let out a huff.

     “Steve.” It was little more than a mumble.

     “Good boy.” Billy flicked ash into a nearby plant pot. “Got a harder one. You know where you are?”

     There were a series of heavy swallows before an answer emerged.

     “Party.”

     Billy folded his arms across the seat cushion and leaned closer.

     “Two for two.” He gushed. “Somebody’s on top of their game.”

     A proud smile clipped Steve’s mouth for a moment.

     “Okay, what about me?” Billy went on. “You know who am I?”

     Steve’s eyes stayed closed. His face barely moved and, for a second, Billy thought that he’d passed out again.

     “Harrington?” He whispered it right into his ear.

     There was a flutter of lashes. Steve stared up at the ceiling for several seconds, licking his lips and taking a few shallow breaths.

     “Billy.”

     “Shit.” He mocked bashful excitement. “That sounds so good when you say it.”

     Steve’s gaze fell to his, focusing as best they could.

     “Really?” He asked, proud smile re-emerging.

     Billy nodded and watched a blush sneak across Steve’s cheeks. It was better than the sigh. Almost as good as the shudder.

     “Alright, got another one for you.” He took a short drag and cocked a brow. “You handle another one?”

     There was a drowsy nod.

     “Course you can.” He shot a plume of smoke into the air above them. “So, tell me. If this actually was your bedroom. This actually was your bed. You wake up and I’m there. What do you do?”

     What remained of the smile quickly faded.

     “What?” Steve muttered, clearly unable to grasp the question.

     Billy reached forward and brushed the hair from his eyes. The touch dropped Steve’s lids and prompted a small hum.

     “Forget it.” He said. “Come on, get up.”

     Billy knew what he wanted to do with this perfect something. As he bore Steve’s weight, walking him up the steps with one hand snuck under his shirt, he figured that he’d made his mind up the second he’d seen Steve stumble down into the basement alone.

      

* * *

 

 

     Even with one hand glued to the wall and the other fixed to the rail, Steve couldn’t seem to conquer the shake in his legs. He was an unbalanced mess and were it not for Billy’s grip on his waist, he’d have collapsed a dozen times before they’d reached the top of the Harringtons’ staircase.

     He’d passed out again two minutes into the drive. Billy had considered pulling over somewhere, figured he could move him to the back seat and save on the gas money. But the idea of Steve’s bed had had a draw to it.

     “How d’you…where I live?”

     It was the first thing he’d said since they’d left the party. It meant that he didn’t recall Billy fishing around his pockets for five minutes looking for a driver’s license.

     “Just looked at your collar.” Billy smiled, keeping as close as possible as he guided Steve past his parent’s room.

     The joke didn’t seem to land right away. It took four more staggered steps before the penny dropped and a grin broke out on Steve’s face.

     “Collar.” He sniggered, halting just outside his bedroom and twisting towards Billy. “Woof.”

     Billy took a moment to look at the face beaming at him. Heavy eyes, easy smile. Vacant.

     “Come on, puppy.” He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

     The sight of the bed drew Steve from his arms. He let him go, watched him climb onto the mattress and curl up against a pillow.

     Billy leaned against the doorframe and watched him for a while.

     It wouldn’t be bad. He wouldn’t hurt him. It was never about hurting him, not even when he’d smashed his face in. It was just…the control.

     He’d make sure it felt good. He’d make Steve enjoy it.

     Billy threw his jacket on a chair already piled high with Steve’s clothes and kicked his boots into the corner.The mattress whined slightly under his weight but neither that nor the extra pressure did anything to disturb Steve.

     It didn’t take much to roll him onto his back. A gentle pull and he unfurled across the sheets like he weighed nothing. Without effort or hesitation, Billy pushed his legs apart and slid himself between his thighs.

     “Hey, sunshine.” He whispered. “You up?”

     Billy knew he was awake. The barely-there gap in his eyelids and the slight tremble in his limbs told him as much. Even if he didn’t say anything, Billy knew Steve was with him.

     After a moment, he bent down and sank a heavy kiss into Steve’s neck. Muscles shifted under his lips, working around a thick swallow, and he could almost feel the gasp before it rose into the air.

     “Knew it.” He mumbled against blushing skin.

     Steve shifted underneath him, hands pushing on his waist, and Billy knew it was an attempt to move him. There was no strength behind it, though, and the failure drew out a small whine. Billy brought his mouth to Steve’s ear.

     “Shhh, shhh, shhh.” He soothed, gripping his wrists. “What’re you doing?”

      With zero struggle, Billy pinned them either side of Steve’s head and slinked his fingers between those pressed to the mattress.

     “These stay here.” He said, squeezing tight.

     By then, Steve’s eyes were as open as they could manage. They stared up at him, still bloodshot and vacant but with a modicum more focus. Slowly, Billy released his grip and slid his hands across the sheets. Steve’s stayed pressed against the bed.

     “Good boy.” He reached for the hem of Steve’s sweater and started pushing up. “Atta boy.”

     Stripping him was easy. He lay still when he was supposed to, moved when Billy told him to. Lifted his neck to allow the sweater over his head and raised his hips as Billy wrenched his jeans off. He didn’t say anything. Occasionally, when another inch of skin was exposed, a choked gasp would make it’s way past his lips and, when that happened, Billy would feel himself twitch. He liked it, making him make those sounds. 

     When there was nothing left but a pair of boxers, Billy sat back and looked down at the perfect something arranged underneath him. It was like full-body déjà vu. His blood started pumping like it had that night at Byers’ and he could feel the intense want to break crawling across his skin. But he smothered it. He’d done that already. He wanted to see what else he could do to it. What else he could make it do.

     “Bet you’d suck my cock, wouldn’t you?” He said, tossing his own shirt to the floor.

     The shallow rise and fall of Steve’s chest betrayed how nervous he was.

     “Bet if I told you to,” Billy unclasped his belt, started working his zipper. “you’d do it.”

     After too long a silence, he raised a brow to let Steve know that he expected an answer. There was a miniscule nod and a near-silent utterance of “yes”. Billy smirked at the uncertainty.

     “Don’t sound too sure about that.” He pushed his jeans off and gave Steve a knowing look. “But you would.”

     “Billy?”

     He nestled back between Steve’s thighs and ran a hand along his ribs.

     “What is it, sunshine?”

     “Why’re you…” Steve wet his lips. “What’s happening?”

     The sincere confusion in his drowsy voice sent Billy into a fit of laughter. When he composed himself, he gripped Steve’s waistband and started working it down. Despite his apparent obliviousness, Steve didn’t react to the move. He let Billy drag the elastic past his hips, past the dark patch of hair, eventually exposing his cock.

     “You never play this game before?” Billy asked him, lifting Steve’s legs to slip the boxers off.

     His arms rubbed nervously against the sheets, clearly itching to move. The fact that he kept them right where he’d been instructed to made Billy’s skin buzz.

     “What game?”

     Billy’s smiles were rarely genuine. Usually, they were dropped as easily as they were forced but, even if he tried, he couldn’t have wiped the grin off his face at that moment.

     “You’re gonna be so good at it.” He assured him, dropping down and licking a kiss across his nipple. “Cause you’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?”

     As he waited for the only answer, Billy turned his head and pressed his ear to Steve’s chest. The rapid fire beating etched a grin into face.

     “Gonna be good, sunshine?”

     He heard an actual skip before he heard the answer.

     “Yes.”

     Billy turned and nicked at his skin.

     “Course you are.”

     He took a second to soak up the heat rising off of Steve’s skin. Between the blood pumping overtime and the blush that couldn’t stop spreading, Billy wondered how easy it would be to make him work up a sweat. Slowly, he reached down and snaked a hand around Steve’s shaft, wetting his lips excitedly when he heard every inch of lung fill in one gasp. As he started running his hand up and down, Billy kept his lips glued to the heat, licking and sucking on neck, chest, anything that got him a reaction. He took in every sound that left Steve’s mouth and then he tried to make it louder.

     Once he felt Steve hardening against his palm, Billy pulled back and gave himself a better view. The dark eyes were still a little fuzzy but the blown-out pupils made them seem more present. He made sure to hold their gaze as his fist started to speed up.

     He watched Steve’s tongue flash out over his lips. Watched his throat work around heavy swallows, watched his neck curve and his back arch just a little. Every time Billy curled his wrist or lightly pressed his thumb just right, he watched the response and told himself that _he did that._

     When he felt the first wet trail of pre-cum start to pool at Steve’s head, he sank down and lapped it up. Immediately, a moan shot out and Steve’s hips bucked up towards his mouth. Billy just pulled back and licked his lips.

     He stared at the desperation and the disappointment and felt himself filling up. _He did that, too._

     As he carried on working his fist, Billy started replaying the moan over and over in his head. He started to wonder how loud he could make Steve go.

     His eyes fell back to Steve’s cock, already starting to shine wet again. Without breaking his rhythm, Billy moved down the mattress and ducked down, this time a few inches lower. He pushed at Steve’s thigh with his free hand, almost pinning it back to his stomach, and the stretch exposed a small ring of muscle.

     Slowly, he dragged his tongue over the hole and felt every muscle lying on the bed tense.

     “Shit, Billy…” Steve whined.

     It was mostly shock, with a hint of begging, and he wanted to hear it again.

     “Roll over.” A small trail of pre-cum followed his hand as he abandoned Steve’s dick. “Get on your front.”

     “What?” Steve seemed more baffled by the sudden loss of friction than by the instruction.

     Billy knelt up, lightly pushing at Steve’s hips, urging them to turn.

     “Gonna lie on your front for me?” He pressed. “Gonna be good?”

     Cloudy brown eyes stared up at him. Steve’s mouth worked silently for a moment and Billy couldn’t help but think about those lips again.

     “You’re so good at this game.” He smiled knowing that Steve had no idea he’d touched them, licked them. “Wanna keep doing good?”

     Billy kept his hands firm on Steve’s hips, thumbs rubbing little red circles into his skin. The silent brown stare stayed fixed as it was. Eventually, Steve nodded.

     Billy went to turn him but he was already rolling over, shakily settling into the mattress without a word.

     “So good.” Billy whispered, surveying the wide spread of his back. “Spread your legs.”

     “What’s –”

     Steve cut off the second Billy gripped his thighs and pulled them open, arranging them exactly how he needed them. As he nestled behind him, Billy spotted a small wet stain on the covers. He remembered then that Steve was still leaking.

     “You wanna touch yourself?” He asked, quietly.

     He saw Steve ball the sheets into a fist. Half a smile flickered across Billy’s face before he leant down and pecked a kiss onto Steve’s ass.

     “That’s okay.” He said. “Go on, just don’t come until I’m inside, alright?”

     The fist clenched tighter.

     “I don’t…” Steve sounded like he was struggling with just about everything.

     “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Billy wet his lips. “You’re gonna like it.”

     He gripped Steve’s cheeks in both hands and eased them apart. He ignored the faint whimper of his name and pushed forward, circling Steve’s hole with his tongue. There was a choked moan that went straight to his dick.

     Slowly, Billy worked it open, licking the skin and pressing against the muscle until he could start fucking his tongue in and out. Steve coughed up a series of whines and winces, all of which spurred him on. After a while, he started to hear a wet sound and a particular groaning that told him Steve was jerking off. If his mouth hadn’t been busy, he’d have happily thrown out an “I told you so”.

     When his jaw started to itch and his chin was running with spit, Billy pulled back.

     “That feel good?”

     The sheets rustled against a nod.

     “See?” He wiped at his chin. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Just gonna make you feel good.”

     He quickly sucked on his middle finger and pressed the tip into Steve’s hole. The wet, fervent strokes halted and Steve seized around the digit.

     “Billy –” He gasped.

     “I’m not gonna hurt you.” It started to grate on him to have to repeat.

     “Billy, I don’t –”

     “This isn’t gonna hurt.” He slowly retracted his finger and wiped the spit across the wet opening. “This is gonna make sure you don’t get hurt.”

     There was no response to that. As the silence stretched on, Billy’s eyes stayed fixed on Steve. His mind started to drift, thinking about what it would feel like to go in now, nothing but spit and half an inch of give on it. He’d barely fit, likely end up stretching it out until it tore. Flashes of a ruined face swarmed his vision for a moment and he had to work to fight them off. He’d broken this already. Breaking it was easy. He wanted to see what else he could do to it.

     His gaze wandered.

     “You got any surprises for me in that nightstand?”

     There was another rustle against the sheets as Steve turned his head.

     “Like what?”

     Rather than reply with one of a plethora of shocking answers flooding his mind, Billy eased himself up and off the bed and headed for the nightstand.

     As he rooted through the drawers, he glanced to his left and caught sight of Steve’s glassy stare. He held it for a few seconds, before the brown eyes dropped lower. Billy couldn’t help but follow, gaze landing on his own hard on. He chuckled and looked back up to find Steve’s eyes on his again. Billy threw him a wink and returned to the drawer. Buried at the back, under more junk than seemed able to fit, was a box of condoms and a clear tube.

     Billy left the condoms.

     After he’d slicked up his fingers, he gave one more teasing lick across Steve’s hole before easing the tip of his index through. The wince and the clench made his stomach flip. He watched as his finger worked it’s way in, twisting and turning to add to the stretch.

     “You sure you never played this game before?” He whispered, transfixed by how easily he found himself almost knuckle-deep.

     “No.” Steve said, quietly.

     “Well shit, sunshine.”  Billy watched his finger pushing in and curling out effortlessly. “Damn good at it.”

     The way Steve was opening up for him, the way Billy was making him open up, was a thing of beauty. He switched to his middle finger for a second, the longer reach prompting another gasp, and then pressed the two in together.

     “Billy!”

     There it was again. The mixture of shock and begging. He swam in it for a moment, replaying it in his head as he curved his fingers and scissored them apart. Suddenly, Steve’s hand shot back and pulled at his wrist.

     “Billy.” It was more choked this time.

     “It doesn’t hurt.” He insisted, pushing deeper. “You know how good you’re doing right now? You know how good you’re being?”

     “I don’t…” There was a string of stuttered breaths before Steve managed to continue. “Don’t wanna play anymore.”

     Billy paused. He stared down at the glistening skin around Steve’s hole and the sticky sheen on his own half-retracted fingers.

     “You back out now, you don’t get your prize.”

     There was a sniff that Billy tried to ignore.

     “I don’t wanna play.”

     He bowed his head and shut his eyes. Breaking it was easy. Billy wanted to see what else he could do to it. He wanted to know he could do something else.

     “You had those stitches in for a week.” He said, quietly. “Ones on your lip. I didn’t think it’d ever heal right because you wouldn’t stop licking them. Like a goddamn dog.”

     Slowly, he twisted his fingers. Steve winced and gripped tighter at his wrist.

     “Every time I saw you, you were suckin’ on them.” He continued. “Kept waiting for you to pull them loose or something, chew through them…and I started thinking maybe you couldn’t stop because you liked them. Just as much as I did.”

     Billy listened closely to the shallow breaths panting into the pillow. He dragged his fingers back and slowly pushed them in further. The breathing hitched but Steve didn’t tug at his wrist this time.

     “Don’t know if you felt it when it busted open, don’t know if you were passed out by then or…but it would’ve hurt. Even if you were out by then, part of you probably felt it. It would’ve hurt. But you took it. And then you got to play with those pretty stitches after.”

     Billy turned to the ceiling and finally felt what he was looking for.

     “Fucking love your lips.”

     He pushed gently against the little ball of nerves and Steve cried out louder than he had all night. Billy tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. He massaged the spot for a few seconds, let Steve ride it out, before eventually easing back.

     “It’s okay.” He sniffed. “You don’t have to play anymore.”

     He started removing his fingers but Steve’s grip held him there. It tightened and pushed.

     “Again.”

     Billy took a few seconds trying to figure out if the request hadn’t been imagined.

     “Please.” It wasn’t shocked but it was so much better. “Please.”

     Slowly, he inched back in and brushed against Steve’s prostate. He could see the shiver shoot down his spine.

     “Like that?”

     There was a rushed nod against the sheets and Steve shifted his hips. Billy watched the hand disappear beneath him and saw Steve’s arm start to ease back and forwards. Finally, he managed the smile.

     He continued massaging, eventually working his fingers into an excited cramp as he listened to the choked out moans. It seemed to work even better, the uncontrollable twitches and spasms in his fingers sending visible shocks through Steve’s body.

     “You having fun, sunshine?” Billy asked.

     “Uh-huh.” Steve barely seemed to know what he was responding to.

     Pre-cum was trailing down Billy’s cock and the urge to replace his fingers was getting harder to ignore.

     “Yeah?” He ran one firm stroke along his shaft. “Think you can handle a little more?”

     For the first time, Steve turned and looked back at him. His face was coated in a sheen of sweat, hair clinging around his eyes. They blinked a few times before dropping to glimpse at his cock. Billy caught sight of Steve’s tongue slipping over his lips and he could feel himself pulse against his hand. After a few seconds, Steve started to nod and brought his gaze back to Billy’s.

     “Yeah.” He breathed.

     A rush went through Billy’s chest.

     “Course you can.” He smiled.

     Without hesitation, he pulled his fingers out and snatched the discarded lube. Steve watched him for a second before turning away again.

     After two wet strokes, Billy lined himself up and pressed inside, nearly coming at the sight of himself sinking smoothly into Steve’s ass. They both sighed in strained relief.

     He tried to keep the same rhythm he’d build up with his fingers, rocking against Steve’s sweet spot and pulling up blissed out little whines. Occasionally he’d get an itch. A twitch in his fingers that wanted to wrench Steve up by his hair and hear him yell. A rush of blood that wanted to roll him over and wrap a fist around his throat just because he knew he could and he knew Steve would let him. Instead, he planted his hands on Steve’s back and fed off the heat, the sweat, the shift in his muscles when he arched back and gasped for a steady breath.

     _He did that._

Eventually, Billy noticed Steve’s arm working overtime, jerking frantically underneath him.

     “You gonna come?”

     Steve’s head was stooped against the mattress but Billy was sure he could make out a nod.

     “Yeah?” He pressed.

     The second he heard a strained “yeah”, Billy gripped his legs and started rolling him over.

     “Come on.” He panted, hooking his arms under Steve’s knees and dragging him towards his lap. “Let me see.”

     He pushed in deep, now honed in on that magic little spot without even trying, and watched Steve’s whole body convulse under the pressure. Billy saw the glassy eyes vanish behind tightened lids and felt a desperate clench around his cock. He stalled his hips, keeping himself buried inside as he watched Steve’s back arch, thick white strips spurting across his stomach.

     The pause only lasted a few seconds. Once he got a taste for the look on Steve’s face and the way his voice cracked, Billy’s hips went into overdrive. He kept pushing and pushing, just to see how loud Steve could get and how long he could drag it out. Turned out the answer was longer than he’d expected.

     When Steve finally went limp against the mattress, Billy was left staring down at the sweat and tears and felt a hot surge rolling south from his stomach.

     “You’re so good.” He told him, pushing forward. “You’re so fucking good.”

     Steve looked beyond spent. He shook against Billy’s hips but, beyond that, it seemed like there wasn’t an ounce of strength left in him. Despite the full-body exhaustion, however, the small, proud smile inched it’s way back onto his face.

     “Really?” He croaked, voice all but lost.

     That was what pushed Billy over. Before he let himself go, he staved off just long enough to bow forward and sink his lips onto Steve’s. He stayed locked to them as he emptied out, slipping his tongue past soft, wet lips that opened perfectly for him.

     When he was finished, he didn’t pull back. He kept rolling his hips, kept licking into Steve’s mouth. As he pressed back and forwards, just to feel the spread of himself inside Steve, he felt an attempt at a mumble brush against his lips. Begrudgingly, he eased back an inch.

     Steve stared up at him, face a blissed-out mess. Billy’s mind tried to match it to the one on Byer’s floor. He pictured blood and torn skin and smiled to himself because he knew he could make that face look however he wanted it to.

     “What is it, sunshine?”

     Almost recovered from his own outburst, Steve’s eyes seemed close to dropping.

     “I feel kinda weird.” He murmured.

     Billy breathed a small laugh.

     “Yeah, I bet.” He hummed. “You wanna go to sleep?”

     The idea had Steve nodding lazily.

     “Okay.” Billy smiled, wetting his lips. “Gotta clean up first, though.”

     After he’d licked Steve’s stomach dry and lapped every trace of himself out from between his legs, Billy corralled him under the covers. He was out like a light in seconds. Billy stayed for a minute, watching him.

     For a second, he thought about climbing in. He wouldn’t sleep. He wasn’t tired. But the idea of just lying next to Steve, even for an hour, seemed kind of perfect just then.

     He didn’t, though. But he smiled knowing that he could. That Steve would lie there and let him.

 

 


End file.
